Reflections of Love
by ArtemisIsis13
Summary: Lily Evans reflects on her past about how her love changed over the years on the one day that will change her life. COMPLETED.


**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING HARRY POTTER AND THE CHARACTERS ARE THE PROPERTY OF J.K. ROWLING.**

**In the Harry Potter universe, James Potter and Lily Evans [Jily] in my favorite ship, more than Hinny or Romione or Nuna could ever be. I don't know exactly why, but there's just something endearing about it to me.**

**I just needed to branch out into something different to get my writing skills up to date. It feels worn out and underused. My poor head needs the practice again.**

* * *

_"My head's underwater, but I'm breathing fine. You're crazy and I'm out of my mind. 'Cause all of me loves all of you. Love your curves and all your edges. All your perfect imperfections. Give your all to me. I give my all to you. You're my end and my beginning. Even when I lose, I'm winning. 'Cause I give you all of me. And you give me all of you!"_

—All of Me (John Legend & Lindsey Stirling version)

* * *

**Her Story of Love**

**Lily Evans**

* * *

Life never turns out the way you think it would, especially when it comes to love.

She remembered that, as a young girl, her mother read her fairy tales before she went to sleep, about the handsome prince who defeated the wicked creature and swept the lovely princess onto his noble steed, to live in his castle forever, where she would live happily ever after. Oh, how simple the idea of life had been, she thought to herself as she stared at her own reflection in the gleaming mirror, so lovely and perfect, without worry or fear that it would all end. The idea of true love's kiss and happily ever after carried hope and longing, and the promise of her heart's content in something so wistful.

Yet, fairy tales were poor imitations of reality, she thought as she ran her fingers through the dark red curls of her hair.

There was no valiant Prince to rescue the princess from hopelessness and despair. She soon found out that those stories were not really how the world worked. For her, love had been a lovely game of wonder of a future, without truly understanding the depth behind it. She grew up understanding that love was different that her original ideals, and finding it was far more confusing that she had ever expected.

Love played games with her heart and her soul, crushing her, pounding her, deceiving her, weeping with her, and singing her to sleep with the song of Longing, in a place where love was a faraway dream compared to the magic and wonder of her new revelations.

She twirled in front of the mirror, remembering her original hopes and dreams. As a child, she wished to go to secondary school and receive good grades and become a nurse, to help people and save lives, and to meet a nice guy when the time came, to have children and grow to a crisp old age, knowing that no matter what mistakes she made, her life was full and she was happy.

Life was not so idealistic.

At eleven she went to a boarding school for magic in the lands of Scotland, and achieved high grades in spite of her muggleborn status, a member of the house of bravery, and she blossomed into a beautiful young woman throughout the years. Her ideals of love and hopes for the future morphed with the reality that fell upon her, that her was endangered as many others of her birth, and fairy tales were only stories that were as distant as the ancestors passed into the afterlife.

There were boys who held her heart, not as thieves or beggars, but only when she was willing to share. Each love a new chapter in her life, their introductions awkward or sweet with dates and poems, scripting themselves with stolen kisses and exchanged words of love and frustration, often concluding in either awkward or sociable friendships or tears into pillows and slaps in the face. There was no prince to rescue her when the 'prince' himself was the creature who opposed her, and she eventually learned that only she could save herself.

She turned away from the mirror as her thoughts reflected the new chapter which changed her mind, and made her believe that, maybe love played games for a reason. It was not out to hurt her, to ruin her, to trick her. It made her stronger. It opened her eyes. It made her see that love was never what she expected, because when she was a girl, she never knew what she really wanted.

She never thought he would be a prince. They rarely got along as young adolescents, their backgrounds and interests carrying them down separate roads to separate futures. She remembered the first time she saw his face, glowing with pride and contentment, just a boy with his own hopes and dreams on his shoulders, not even interested in her. It had been easy to turn away from him, to pretend he wasn't a thorn in her side with his cheeky mouth and suave attitude, to think of herself and what she endeavored to be.

He never intently contested for her heart and affection in his passage through flirtation and mischief-making. For him it was a game, not a serious pursuit when he had other quests to endeavor. They argued, by he left her in peace whenever she was alone, yet his eyes had followed her longingly, and she never believed they were true, that what they wanted for her was genuine.

Yet, they both suffered loses, of friends and of family, in battles fought in a war of darkness and power against freedom and hope. They say that wars can tear you apart or drive you together, she recalled and she closed her eyes. War gave her both results.

There was a time when she cared deeply for someone close to her, though she had not been in love with him. Yet, she trusted him with her heart, and he could make her smile when others could not. They were close friends, able to understand one another in ways that other people could not achieve. At one point, she had even considered him to be closer than a friend before the walls of Jericho crashed down between them, severing their bond out of his darkened manner and altered cognitions. How could she be with anyone who would only defy his perceptions for her alone, or at least _said_ he would, yet ridicule anyone else like her? What life would that lead for her? For the both of them? On several an occasion, she tried to help him, to show him that he didn't need the darkness to find fulfillment, but in her failure, she had to turn away, for her own sake, for she refused to spend her days mourning over him. It was his words that snipped the final cord that lingered between them, clinging in the hopes that all was not yet lost, and in its destruction, she tucked it away between the pages of her life, and opened up to a new chapter, one she intended to write without him.

In her newfound freedom away from the sadness of his growing dark shadow, she went on with her life, determined to live life for what it was worth, in the comings of despair and grief, to cling on to the hope that she knew would lead them all out again.

And then... the one she never dreamed of... he stood with her, wands abreast with courage and comfort. He was not as he was, not completely, with his haughty smiles and charming laughs. She could see the pain his eyes, and her worry in his voice, yet the strength in his words and his actions opened her eyes to see something hidden from her for many years. His compassion for the ones he loved. How did she find herself being one of them?

How did the heart in her chest cast a whirlwind of emotions within her, as if she were the cage of a hurricane forged of raging infernos and thunderstorms, worthy of chaos only gods could create? How did his voice, low and soft, sound so rich and soothing, with power of authority and gentle passion that caused her chaos in her chest to swell and shake within her? How could he feed the fire of fury between them, then douse the flames with soothing hands and tender kisses?

Had she fallen in love with him?

He never thought of her as weak, or incapable of looking out for herself. His eyes only gleamed with pride and affections towards her, rather than on his own success. She came to trust him in a way that she never thought she could ever trust a man again, and unlike before, he never broke her heart or gave her reason to doubt his feelings. He wasn't the child she had known before, with his silly jokes and crooked smiles, but someone mature, with a sense of humor and a heart of gold, with his own flaws and mistakes for all to see.

He was not perfect. Neither was she. It seemed that with the passing time, they both acknowledged and accepted it, and saw something meaningful in everything, even if it was incompatible with their likings. There were heated words and misunderstandings between them, and several moments of strife and heartache, but he never gave up on her, and neither did she to him.

She found solace in his arms, and witnessed the love in his eyes, reflecting her own heart's content in being with him.

That's when she understood her trials.

Love wasn't perfect, as if only filled with chocolates and flowers and stolen kisses and happily ever afters as seen in those little childhood books and television series. It was loving someone enough to trust them with your heart, your soul, and seeing you for everything you were, both the good and the bad, and not worshiping you for it, but accepting and understanding it, just as you could for them. It wasn't only romance, but something deeper, when you knew that the other person cared about you, and thought about you.

It was never a smooth journey, and the roads were bursting with complications and worries. Some of them would tear at her soul, dragging her down, kicking and screaming. It was a mystery, the future, with its secrets and horrors, but he was there for her. There were days when he lost hope, when his anger and rashness got the better of him, and she was there to calm him down. For the both of them, they were each other's strength and weaknesses, and they weren't alone.

There was so much to risk between them, with their backgrounds and statuses, and the world of judges to oversee what they did, but they knew what mattered to each other, regardless of what anyone else thought of it.

So that's how she got to that place, in front of that mirror, her insides bunched and knotted with nerves as she gazed down at the snowy white dress. It was soft, hugging her curves and flaring out from her waist. The gleaming fabric was enchanted with everlasting snowflakes, cool to the touch, and thankfully not causing any dampness. Her hands trembled through her white-lace gloves as she patted her curled red hair, examining every detail with her piercing, almond-shaped green eyes. Her heart picked up at its pace as her eyes met her reflection so that she could see their worries. No amount of reflecting or worrying could lengthen the time she had left as Lily Evans. When the day was done, she would be Lily—

"You're beautiful, Lily."

She caught his eyes gazing at her in her wedding dress, mesmerized and enthralled, with a warm smile decked on his face. Her own breath hitched at the sight of him in his dark robes, with a white rose on his lapel, and his shambolic hair unsuccessfully tamed.

"James!" she exclaimed. "You aren't supposed to be in here!"

The amusement on James's face never faltered. "Says who? I have every right to be in here."

"Tradition says otherwise!" Lily turned to stare into his eyes, and almost regretted it. Those hazel orbs could melt away her anger so easily.

"Muggle traditions," he corrected her as he took confident strides towards her. "However, in the wizarding world, there is no such thing as bad luck to see the bride before the wedding." He stopped right in front of her. "After all, if it was such back luck, then we wouldn't have seen in each other since I proposed. You were my bride from the day I put that ring on your finger."

Lily blushed and she lifted her hand with a gentle tenderness that brought her heart to shudder, skimming his finger lightly over the golden ring. He had made it precisely for her. A simple diamond gleamed in its center, with two tiny green emeralds to flank either sides. All around the band were delicate lilies etched into the gold, crafted minutely enough to be invisible at first glance.

"It makes senses to muggles," she said, but even she herself was unconvinced. She was unable to meet his eyes and she stared back at the mirror, and this time, her reflection was accompanied by his own.

"What are you thinking?" His voice was low, even concerned, and he lifted her face towards him.

"I—" She took a deep breathe. "I just wish they were here. Mum and Dad. They would have wanted to be here."

She refused to cry, but the tears welled in her eyes, unwilling to escape her lashes yet unwilling to stop. Immediately, he encased her in his strong arms, as if trying to absorb her sorrows with his own will.

"I want that too," he whispered. "They were good people. And your father's humor almost bested me. He was a worthy opponent."

Lily giggled against his chest, almost horrified when the tears escaped her eyes and splattered against his robes, but as she pulled away, his thumbs came up to dry them away, and his hands rested on both sides of her face.

"I know that muggles can never be ghosts," he said. "But the dead, they don't stop knowing in death. That's what all Potters believe. They're still there, invisible and alive in our hearts. I'm sure that their right here. I know my father is. I can almost feel him with me every day."

"How can you be so sure?" She whispered, almost her will.

James smiled. "Because it's what I believe. I know it hurts, and Merlin does it kill me that they be seated amongst the others, but if I love them, then they're not gone. Not really."

Lily gazed at him intently, searching his to see that the pain was hidden in its constant battle with joy, yearning to steal away the happiness of their wedding day. As always, he preferred to be strong about the ails of his heart than to display them so openly, he couldn't hide from her. The truth was written there for only her to read, a passage of his own book he was willing to share.

"Lily Evans, I love you. Everything about you, I adore. I wish I could take away the pain. I will always be with you, to the day I die, and I promise that I'll make you happy again."

Lily almost cried at his words. She wasn't sure if she could ever tell him how much that meant to her, so instead, she raised her face towards him and planted a long, desperate kiss on his lips. He kisses her back with enough passion to rattle her knees together, and for one blissful minute, her worries melted into nothingness as a new warmth blossomed in her chest, swelling vastly enough to explode in a shower of meteors across the night sky. It was just the two of them in their pocket of love, so strong that no one could break them.

Well, metaphorically.

Just as James's hand travelled across her back, a soft squeak of surprise alerted them to the fact that they weren't alone in the room. Lily smiled against James's reluctance to leave her lips, but he pulled away to glare at the three men standing in the doorway, one with beautiful black hair and devilishly gorgeous features, another with a gentle expression, Brown hair, and amused green eyes, and finally the third, a rounded, more boyish young man with mousey brown hair and a startled expression.

"Wormtail! Now look what you did!" the black haired beauty teased.

"Sorry!" Peter Pettigrew said, his face boiling red, before scurrying out of the room.

"Well, frankly, you can't blame him. A bit eager for the honeymoon, now are we?" He grinned as James glared at him, but that didn't halt his newfound blush. Lily wanted to bury her face into James's chest. The last thing she needed was to get caught kissing her fiance by the infamous Marauders, who were only willing to tease.

"What are you doing here, Padfoot?" James asked.

"I'm here to collect the groom. I think he's supposed to be at the aisle in..." Sirius Black checked for the time. "Five minutes, though I'm starting wonder if we should bother, seeing as you lot are declaring your vows up here."

"Behave yourself, Sirius," Lily warned with a hint of affection. He was one rascally brother she was about to inherit.

"Yes, ma'am!" He gave her a mock salute.

James's sighed before departing with another kiss. "I'll see you in five minutes," he promise, shooting her a charming grin before marching off towards the door, disappearing in Sirius's wake. Only one Marauder remained, watching Lily intently as she fixed her make-up in the mirror.

"How do I look?" She finally as turning towards Remus Lupin in the doorway.

Remus beamed at her. "You look beautiful," he said warmly. "I'm surprised that Prongs had the courage to leave."

Lily found her bouquet of white flowers, only a single white Lily in the center, cradling it gingerly between her fingers as she and Remus left the room, passing through the corridors and stairs of the Potter household until they were in the doorway to the back garden, just as the violins struck up a familiar wedding song.

Remus held out his arm to her, and with the nerves bubbling we stomach, she gladly accepted, waiting for the moment where she would walk out to meet James, and Albus Dumbledore, who had consented to conduct the service.

"Thank you," she said as the moment approached them. "For doing this."

"I believe it's an honor," he replied earnestly. "It is that last time I walk with Lily Evans. She will be missed." He winked at her. "But Lily Potter will beloved."

Lily beamed as they finally walked down the aisle, in careful, calm steps to pace evenly with the violins. She could feel the stares of the crowd on her, watching her every move as she walked with Remus, but here eyes were fixed on one person.

James was waiting for her, with Sirius at his side, his expression alight with joy and affection. There was no doubt in her mind about him, and how much she wanted to spend the rest of her with him. In that ment, she was ready to give all of herself to him, to be his wife, to stand by this side. She need that there would trouble in the road ahead, but for now, in this place, it didn't matter. She loved him. It was not a fairy tale, but she knew that she had found her Prince.

* * *

**A bit fluffy, not how I intended it to be. I had a tragic idea going in my head and turned out into a wedding. So odd. I'm trying to get the creative juices flowing again so I can get back to my other stories. Sorry about any errors that I made. I'll look it over again to fix them. I wrote all of this using my Kindle fire, and spell check gave me hell. So does my computer.**

_**~ArtemisIsis13**_


End file.
